Damn insomnia! I tossed and turned for eight hours last night. Again. Now I’m so tired, I can’t even think straight. Not a great way to start the day. It really pisses me off. I’m so fucking sick of this shit! When I get home at the end of the day, I’m always exhausted. Physically and mentally. Burned out, worn out, weary, drained. And all I want to do is give my brain and feet and back and shoulders a nice, long, well-deserved break. But my body and mind simply refuse to follow orders and shut down - they just keep going and going and going like the freakin’ energizer bunny!
It’s like I lay down and suddenly, all those little neurotic thoughts and worries and fears that I managed to outrun during the day, catch up to me and ambush me and attack me with all the reasons why I should dread waking up in the morning. Like I’m subconsciously trying to make the night last as long as possible because I just don’t want to face the upcoming day. Like my mind doesn’t want to take a break from reality because then it will have to return at some point and may not survive the shock of re-entry.
It’s like it’s an unbearable, never-ending, inescapable, self-propelling cycle. Because the less sleep I get, the more worthless I am at my job the next day, and the more I worry that I’m going to get fired for being such a terrible employee and the less sleep I get the following night. And it just goes round and round and round. Because that's a legitimate fear. I mean, if I get fired I won’t be able to find another job because, let’s face it, even getting this job was a fucking miracle and what are the chances I’ll get two miracles in a row (especially when I never appreciated the first one as much as I should have) and it’s not like I have enough talent or education or experience to qualify for any job without some kind of divine intervention from the universe.
And since I won’t be able to find another job, I’ll have no income and I won’t be able to pay rent and I’ll have to give up my apartment and get rid of all my possessions (like I did last year). I don’t know anyone that I can stand who would take me in for any substantial period of time – least of all my parents, unless I was willing to grovel and suck up and kiss ass and relinquish all the control over my life that I fought so hard to obtain in the first place, which I never would be – so inevitably I’ll end up homeless and then I really won’t be able to get a job or a place to live and eventually I’ll just wind up drifting around the country – a complete and utter failure like I always knew I would be - until one day, I’ll die alone on the side of the road somewhere, dirty and gross and smelling like disappointment and futility.
Maybe I should take a sleeping pill tonight. Or the whole bottle. Then I could sleep for a really long time…